Igor's day off
by Pythonmelon
Summary: Vlad makes the mistake of trying his hand at housekeeping one night


"Are you sure about this?" Igor eyed the Count suspiciously. He hadn't gotten a real day off in, well, ever. He knew that the vampire used to be human but, after seven hundred years, retained almost no talent when it came to housekeeping. At least he was lucky enough that Mina was at a friend's house for the night. Unfortunately this was the juncture of the week where chores miraculously piled up. He liked the idea of a day off, but grossly underestimated the Count's inability to burn down the castle while he was gone.

"Of course!" The Count felt like his servant needed a day off. He had even offered to do the chores. Maybe it was a side effect of how sickeningly nice he had become, the hunchback didn't care.

"Alright!" The little man nodded ecstatically. He figured he could trust Vlad not to destroy anything while he was gone. He shuffled out the door, a grin showing his rotted teeth.

Vlad shut the door and smiled. He looked around, taking in the empty castle. If felt somehow vacant, but that was the point of tonight. The vampire took maybe three steps towards the couch before picking up on the mess. The windows were streaked with dirt and grime. There was a faint mud stain Mina had tracked in on the carpet. The book shelves were out of order, there was a blanket crumbled up in the corner of the couch, and a knick-knack had been carelessly broken on the coffee table. He had even left the glass from his evening drink on the table. He frowned. How does a place with so little activity in it get so filthy?

The Count picked up and folded the blanket, putting it back into the closet that it had come from. He swept up the thing from the mantel piece and carried his glass into the kitchen. He left it to be washed, smirking. "This isn't so bad, I don't know vat Igor is always complaining about." He chuckled.

The carpet stains and windows came to mind now. He looked around, thinking mindfully of how he was going to clean that up. Where in the castle did Igor keep the cleaning supplies? Vlad hadn't the slightest idea.

Vlad spotted a cabinet, set high up towards the ceiling, on the far wall. He went over and opened it carefully, standing on his toes to see inside. It was filled with nonperishable goods. In the back, behind a few packages of flour and molasses, was something with a pale yellow lid. A spray can of window cleaner was the first thing he thought of.

"Come…here…" He reached up, straining after the can. He never really thought about just  
floating up there and grabbing it. His claws touched and tilted the can to no avail. He couldn't get a good grip on it. The glass jars of molasses scooted ever closer and forward towards the shelf's edge, beginning to tilt precariously.

Before he could duck away or even see what was coming he pulled at the can again. It sent one jar teetering and crashing down on top of his head. He flinched and fell to the floor. He sucked in an unneeded breath. It didn't really hurt, but pain where it is not expected stings even more so.

Another jar, and another, shattered on his head. "Agh!" He caught the next one and threw it angrily. It busted against the wall and started running, black and gooey against the stone. As if, just to prove his efforts wasted, the can with a yellow lid rolled off and landed on his head with a satisfying 'splat'. He picked the troublesome container out of the viscous, glass-strewn mess that his hair had become.

The label on the can infuriated him even further. "Spray cheese?! SPRAY CHEESE?!" He went to throw that to, but decided a bigger mess was the last thing he needed. He got up and put down the cheese, sighing in frustration. "I need a bath."

He hated baths, had hated them since he was a kid. Even as a vampire Vlad had no way other than a bath to get rid of molasses. He looked over the mess with contempt. How did Igor do it?

Downstairs the clothes that needed washing were piled on top of the washing machine. He hated that infernal thing for the noise it made, but it did get the laundry finished rather fast. While he was running the bath water the Count stripped out of his clothes and loaded the unseperated pile of laundry into the wash. He shuffled through a cabinet, finally finding the elusive cleaning supplies, and added he right amount of soap according to package directions.

Vlad settled into the bath and decided it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The water felt warm on his cold skin. He scrubbed madly, trying to get all of the sugary liquid off of him. He was really regretting letting Igor have that day off.

When the hunchback got back from his night off he really had his work cut out for him. The count, having given up after his bath, was pouting on the couch. Igor took that as a sign that something had gone wrong.

He dealt with the mess in the kitchen first, using a step ladder to put up the cheese and cleared away the caked brown mess on the floor and wall. After scrubbing away the last of the molasses he went downstairs to get the window cleaner. He found the washing machine filled with miscolored clothes. Black, red, and white clothes were now a mess of pinks and greys. He sighed- several outfits had been completely ruined.


End file.
